Enid.
Thanks for the information. Is that all the sympathy you can offer?
Von Rettenmayer.
Bardon. Humbly. There may be gheaper hodels.
Enid.
Where the common people pay for their beds and meals with Cook’s coupons! Sitting upon the arm of the further settee in the centre and swinging her feet. Oh, it doesn’t matter. I suppose it’ll have to be Swanage, or some brisk resort of that description. Sighing. So be it! Humming. Tra, lal, lal, la——!
Von Rettenmayer.
Sitting on the nearer settee in the centre, close to her, with an anxious expression. A hundred-and-twendy-five frangks a day?
Enid.
Including nothing—absolutely nothing!